Silhouettes dance on towering walls, No light shines on whispered calls. Yet in each echo, silent fate chimes, The clock ticks false in these digital times. In digital streams, truth dissipates, Manufactured love breeds mindless hates. Smokescreen breaths and mirror reflections, Veiling reality, concealing imperfections. Rain in venoms, skies drenched in grey, Mother Earth writhes in endless dismay. We can't rewind, there's no undo, Only hope in the rhythms, and the rhythm is you. [outro][end]
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